


Homecoming

by jameee25



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jameee25/pseuds/jameee25
Summary: It's never soft after they've been apart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetad, all mistakes are mine

He was barely out of the shower, one towel draped around his waist and wiping at his wet hair with another, before he was hit by 6’4 feet of solid muscle and the world’s longest hands slammed him into the wall.  
“Hey, hey, whoa, Sammy-“he tries to catch his breath for a second, but before he could muster his next step, a warm tongue is pushed into his mouth. Instinct wasn’t late to kick in, and he tilted his head and opened his mouth the intrusion. When Sam got like this, and it wasn’t very often, there was no use fighting him. Might as well lean back and enjoy the ride. Sam tastes of whiskey, and his head is tied up in a funny little bun. He smells like old books, and sweat, and the cheap ass fabric softener Dean bought on his last grocery run, and he is the hottest thing Dean ever saw.

 

They stay like this for a few minutes, tongues sliding inside mouths, hands roaming everywhere, and when Dean finally surfaces for air he tries to slow things down, to make it last, Besides, his back is killing him, and he has a feelings that his knees aren’t going to hold him up any longer. It was a long fucking hunt.

 

“Sam, Sammy, c’mon, let’s take this-“  
“No.” His brother breathes into his mouth. “Want you here Dean, want you like this, don’t wanna move.”  
“I was gone for a week Sammy, It’s not like- “  
“Too long.”

And his mouth is being sealed again by his brother’s persistent tongue. He slides his hand down Sam’s back, squeezes his ass with one big palm, and when he hears a loud groan leaving his brother’s mouth, he uses the momentary distraction and howls Sam by the shirt he’s-still- and why is that?- wearing and shoves him into the open shower room. If their doing this here, they’re doing it by his terms.

He catches Sam’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. Sam gasps, and Dean shoves him in against the cabinet. His elbow hits the cup that holds their toothbrushes, and sends it flying to the floor but Dean doesn’t mind. Now that he is on with the program he is too busy kissing his brother furiously, wanting to be everywhere on him, in him, all at once.

Sam is a moaning mess against him, and as he tries to mumble “Your skin, wanna taste Dean,” Dean just titles his head sideways, giving him better access to his neck and jaw, while his hands continue to roam under Sam’s shirt, under his yoga pants, pinching a nipple, sliding a finger over a crack. Sam ruts against him like a cat in heat, and Dean can feel his brother’s cock, warm and so fucking hard, pulsing against him. “Sammy,” He chocks out, and moves back a tiny friction, only to look his brother in the eyes.

It’s all there, as it always is, as it always was, the trust, the longing, they want, the epic necessity if what they have. Of what they are to each other. Nothing in the world is better than this. Nothing is more important than this. Dean is completely consumed by this man, his own brother, and at the moment he is very much okay with that.  
He turns Sam with a grunt to face the mirror. He can see them there, and he takes a moment to bask in the picture they make. An obscene, filthy, pornographic, fucking gorgeous picture that is so much them that Dean knows he can never feel guilty about this. 

Sam grips the counter in one hand, bending forward a little to shove his ass into Dean’s groin. Dean lowers Sam’s pants, and his fingers curl around his brother’s hard cock. “Please,” Sam gasps, opening his eyes to look at Dean through the mirror. Dean is grateful that at least the lube his on the counter, because he doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. He opens the bottle with shaky fingers and a moment later he is sliding one oily finger into Sam’s hole. He closes his eyes to fight back the urge to just push in, and one he adds another finger Sam leans forward, canting his hips and flattening both his hands on the counter top.

“Oh fuck, Dean, yes.”  
“We’re getting there baby, patience,” “Just do it,” Sam groans, and rolls his hips back, tightening his ass around Dean’s fingers. Dean grabs Sam’s hips to hold him still. “Shhh…” With one soft grunt, the blunt head of his dick is sliding inside Sam. He lets out a breath he doesn’t know he was holding, and gives himself a minute to adjust to the hot-tight sensation around him. “More,” Sam pants, and Dean’s teeth sink into his shoulder as he pushes Sam to lean against him.

He shoves into him hard, and Sam’s hand reaches back and grabs his hip, digging his fingernails into his skin.  
“God Sammy, yeah, come on sweetheart, show me you want it,” and Dean draws out almost completely, only to slam back in harder. “Fucking missed you baby,” Sam is moaning, clutching his ass around Dean, not wanting him to slide away. “Dean, Dean, Dean,” Sam is chanting, eyes rolling back as he tries to lean back onto his brother. Dean grabs his shoulders, slamming harder with each thrust, and Sam spreads his legs wider, a loud “Ugh!” leaves his throat as Dean his particular spot.

“Found it, baby,” Dean half laughs as he tries to hit his brother’s hot spot again, keeping him right there with him. His hips snap against Sam, faster, harder, and he leans in to kiss his brother’s throat, them his mouth, almost angrily. He closes his fingers around his brother’s dick, needing him to come, because Dean knows he won’t last much longer. “Yeah, yeah, fuck, Dean, “ he can hear Sam moan as he rubs his wet slit, and knows he is close.

Sam is silent when he comes, spilling all over Dean’s hand, and Dean lifts up his hand to his brother’s lips, letting him taste himself. Another half a dozen thrusts, and Sam’s hot, wet mouth tight around his fingers and with a huffed out “Goddamn, shit Sammy,” Dean comes inside his brother.

He leans his head against Sam’s shoulder, trying to catch his breath as he hears his brother’s soft “Missed you Dean,” as he link their fingers together above Sam’s abdomen. He raises their still joined hands and brings him to his mouth, kissing them softly.  
“Me too, Sammy.”  
All in all, there are worse things to come home to.


End file.
